Operation Interception
by Pianist707
Summary: Abby is plotting something to have a good, comedic moment.  She decides to involve her sister and the CoveOps teacher.  After OSOT.  Four chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Just an idea that popped into my head. I also got the fifth Gallagher Girls book! :D The plot is so twisted, the last antagonist shocked me! He was responsible for brain-washing Cammie...T_T Oh well. Read ze story!**

**Disclaimer: Pianist707 does not own anything from Ally Carter. She owns the new book she bought from Barnes and Nobles, though. She thought it was the last book, when there were really stacks of it when she first strolled into the store.**

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><p><em>Operation Interception<em>

_Abigail "Abby" Cameron_

_I'm bored._ That was Abigail Cameron's first thought as she sat on her bed, looking through old memories. Long after Cam returned to the Gallagher Academy, stuff went out of the whack. It died down to its natural form (not really. But the Circle had became less encrypted.), but still, she wanted to be part of the action, something for comedic pleasure. Abigail was the type of woman who loved a good replay after a mischievous deed was done.

As the darkening dusk made her flick a lamp on, she carefully laid her album of photos in her drawer, an idea came on.

Sunday was one of the many scheduled times her older sister, Rachel would finish taking a shower and drying her hair in the faculty bathrooms (genders separated, of course.). And a certain someone would pass by the halls, if she could get him to come to her room, in the same halls where the faculty passed on their way to many places in the academy.

So, if she could get such a pair to meet up together…it would be _hilarious!_ The encounter would be so embarrassing for the two that they would have to hunt the prankee down. She would have to be careful. The timing would have to be accurate; no one else involved (except Abby, of course.) to not cause any confusion. The planning would ensue until the operation began at exactly 8:37 p.m. (Rachel liked privacy and odd number timings.), where the victim would meet the second victim.

The final piece was laid. At the crucial moments, all of this would be recorded on tape. Moments before, she told Joe to meet her at 8:36 p.m. in her room, while he unsuspecting did no suspect what was the true meaning of the visit.

_Operation Interception is a go!_

_8:31. Abby_ plastered official looking posters, **HALLS CLOSED**,over a hall her friend used, whereas it would lead him to the faculty halls. She set up a wall painted to replicate a wall in the aforementioned hall, complete with peepholes as small as long as she could see. It was constructed in the middle of the hall, long enough to fill the corner of the hall, where Rachel would depart from the bathrooms.

_8:33._ Soon, a camera with a tripod was positioned on a third peephole on the fake wall. Rubbing her hands with a giddy smile, she instinctively opened the door to where Rachel was. Her sister was drying her long dark hair, as expected. She crept in, stole something so precious, and shut it without receiving a reaction.

_8:34. _A watch on her wrist ticked the time. Abby crouched near the peepholes, checking if the video was on record. _Yup._ She clicked it off and bit her lip from laughing an insane cackle. No one would tolerate a CIA operative that protected Macey McHenry bouncing off the walls on a sugar rush.

_**8:37 p.m.**_

As soon as the camera was flicked on to _RECORD,_ there was a slam. Rachel (dry hair, she used a hair-dryer.) briskly walked to her office-slash-room-slash-bedroom-with-hidden-stuffed-animals-from-her-childhood-room. Oh, how Abby would love to see the shock on her sister's face meeting an unsuspected guest strolling closer, at a leisure pace. Rachel wore nothing but a towel, brought her own soap, and very light slippers. Through the peephole, distress was hidden on her face. With a grin, Abby checked on the fresh, crisply-ironed clothes she'd stolen in the bathroom all placed in a black back. If she hadn't, she would be strolling in a suit.

"I was sure I brought my clothes there…" The headmistress muttered to herself but loud enough for Abby to hear, not bothering to look up. Tightening the beige towel wrapped around her chest, she continued to trek to her office as quickly as the fluffy slippers restricted her to walk in the carpet floor.

Cocking her head, the lone operative couldn't stop her Cheshire grin from spreading, splitting her face. The camera blinked twice. **00:01:50:32.** One minute, fifty seconds and counting.

And then Joe Solomon came into view, wearing khaki pants and a white shirt, somehow not noticing her sister. All was about to come, according to the plan. But as Joe passed her fake wall, she hitched her breath, expecting him to whip around and fling away the light, painted wood (don't ask where Abigail Cameron got it- she's a _spy._). He didn't bat an eye, so she sighed in relief, focusing on the task at hand. They had to come closer.

_Closer._

_C'mon, get a little closer. _Rachel tightened her towel, carefully placing her slippers on the slick floor.

_Yes, yes…my little dearies. Come closer to the middle of this pretty hall. _

_Oh my, this is going along as I wanted! This is FABULOUS!_

_YES! NOW, FOR THE FINALE!-_

More than four feet away, Abby went into action, processing what must be done before the luck streak died. She stared at the invisible strings she'd attached the wall to a very small, though very loud-induced bell that she invented in the olden days. By old, Abby meant eighth grade.

_**RRIIRRRIRIIIIIINNNNGGG!**_

The blaring of the bell was strategically placed on Abby's right, which was Rachel's and Joe's left. The stopped, cocked their heads up, and stood facing each other for a second. In a way, Rachel's fair skin bloomed in a shade of crimson that matched the CoveOps teacher's similar expression.

_This is great._

Exactly, this was done to make the two look up, to divert their attention upwards, and to face each other in this shocking situation.

Joe stood back, eyes round as saucers. Rachel dittoed the same, her expression clear as clear water: shock and embarrassment.

_One point for Abby, zero for Rach._

"R-rachel?" The young man's voice echoed, cracked and quiet. After the events of being in a coma and staying absolutely still as a chunk of stone, he didn't have quiet control of his legs, so it was…wobbly. Made him look ludicrous.

"J-joe?" The headmistress was nowhere, replaced by the girl in the academy, the nervous, shy being that contrasted Abby greatly. "I didn't know you were passing by at this time…" She trailed off, clutching her towel. She took a step forward slowly, as if the floor would explode (extremely possible.). "…maybe I should go now."

He nodded and pointed at Abby's door. "Y-yeah." He still stuttered over his words. "Did you see Abby? She told me she was going to talk to me about…something." He mentally cursed himself for not asking specifically what that _something _was.

_Heheheh._

"I don't know. I haven't seen her this evening before I went to take…a shower." Before she could continue, there was a loud thud. "What's-"

Abby kicked down the makeshift hideout of the wall, detached the tripod from the camera, and dashed away from the two stunned operatives. Despite her bloodshot eyes, a sign of sugar overdose, she mostly had complete control of her spazzing body.

There were literally white clouds being left in her wake as she burst past Rebecca Baxter and Elizabeth Sutton; they only became fearful as a blur whizzed by. They watched her slam open the doors into the Grand Hall, disrupting and scaring the spy skills out of some fellow seniors entering their dorms. "What the bloody _hell?_" She blinked. Liz just stared, her jaw weighed on the floor.

And then the American and British Gallagher Girls turned around to face the two highly-respected staff. One was teetering on his legs, the other wearing nothing but a towel and her face red as a tomato. Make that _two_ people with tomato faces.

"What's going on here?" Liz asked, astonished. All Ms. Morgan could do was reply grimly, "Cammie's aunt has recorded something embarrassing on a tape and fled." She paused, deep in thought. "Her bloodshot eyes told me that she was high on sugar."

"Like crack?" Rebecca's eyes widened, looking the two pair up and down. So unexpected. A nod confirmed her beliefs. "Oh, no…we have the same problem."

Joe Solomon raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Bex?" He feared the answer early, so that he would be less fearful later.

This would allow him to be less afraid once he found out what had happen. That made being less scared practical. Supposedly, the readers reading this probably did not understand what I just said. Because what I mean by being less afraid by acting more afraid, you would- _NEVER MIND!_ It would make you explode like when a star dies in Alpha Centauri.

"Cammie was busy at the buffet, and she coaxed the chef to add more sugar and chocolate to the dessert we were having. Now she's caught Professor Buckingham and Madame Dabney in a net, and she's trying to make them do a reenactment of one of the Hunger Games arena fights." She summarized.

There was a mini uproar in the empty hall.

"This is madness!"

"I know, right? Wait, why are you quoting from the movie, 300?"

"Liz, shush."

There was a brief silence, and Rachel turned to the three. "We need to find those two. I'll set up Code Yellow in my office (after I change my clothes.). The bright colors and lights will attract my sister and daughter. Start in the Grand Hall, Joe, where Abby went. Elizabeth and Rebecca, go back where you last saw Cammie and start searching."

Liz raised her hand. "Yes?" The headmistress was already walking up the stairs, the quickest route to her office-slash-room. "What's the Code Yellow code for, Ms. Morgan?"

"Code Yellow is used to show that lunatics have entered the Gallagher Academy." Came the mother's reply.

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><p><strong>Hopefully you had a good laugh. A friend told me that laughing fifteen seconds in a sitting will make you live longer for two more days. <strong>

**I beg for reviews. They make me _very_ happy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry if it's to short, I've been busy with school. I wasn't able to think straight, so I'm going to write a third chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Sarah Leigh Fogleman (or _Foglewoman?_) "Ally Carter" owns the Gallagher Girls series. Pianist707 owns this Alternate Universal story.**

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><p><em>Operation Interception<em>

_Cameron "Cammie" Morgan_

_**CODE YELLOW. CODE YELLOW.**_

I cocked my head at the blaring sirens. _What's a Code Yellow?_ There was a burst of chatter below in the Grand Hall as all girls of different classes filtered out of the dining hall, talking among themselves with exaggerated hand movement. I sprinted to the balcony and looked below. I saw Macey and I waved her over. No one protested as my beautiful friend strolled up the stairs, looked me in the eye, and ask, "Where were _you?_" She yelled over the conversations of students. "I saw you left with a crazy look in your eye, and then Bex and Liz left. All of a sudden this 'Code Yellow' happens, and the Gallagher Academy is covered with cupcake wallpaper. And all of the teachers are holding plates of pie and sweets." She shakes her head.

I looked around me. The academy of Gillian Gallagher had many secrets, but this was the latest I'd seen. The walls had changed to featured pictures of cupcakes, the sirens were yellow, and the lanterns were the color of pink and sparkles.

_Really, Gillian, sparkles?_ I've sworn I heard a man's voice in my thoughts.

_I like sparkles. If a lunatic were to see these things, they would like them too. They would dance around, and we could capture them. Sugar crazy or not, we can catch them._

_That's the most ludicrous idea I have ever heard from you, milady._

_Face it like a man, or be a woman._

_I'm a man._

_Then _act _like one._

_Okay, okay! You didn't have to punch me in the guts to give the message like me._

_I heard you scream like a _woman.

'_Tis a manly yell._

"You didn't have anything to do with this, do you?"

I pale at a sudden thought. "I didn't know anything about Code Yellow. I ate too much sugar and had to control myself in our room."

Macey cocked her head, the stare becoming less friendly and more stalker_-ish_; resembling the looks those men give you in the movies, when the main character struts her stuff. "Are you sure? Because I watched Madame Dabney run away from Abby, who was holding a tripod, running at crazy speeds, and _tackled her._ And then she ran away with the cake she was holding." I blink.

Aunt Abby chased my Culture and Assimilation teacher while holding a tripod and stole a cake?

And _I _thought my sugar rush phases were insane. After I ran away from Bex and Liz as they removed Ms. Buckingham and Madame Dabney from the netting, I locked myself in our dorm and went through a mode that involved water, a chocolate bar, and a picture of Joe Solomon without a shirt (don't ask).

I opened my mouth to speak, but what came out was a miserably squeak. Either I was so stunned I couldn't form words, or the sight of my mom wearing a white tank top and black jogging pants coming my way was even _weirder._

I had to get over my obsession with sugar.

"Cammie, you're all right!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms over me, and then took a few steps back in a manner that someone understood personal space, "Are you over your little sugar tension?" She said with a serious stare, making her even hotter in her hotness (why was she wearing that, though?). She didn't allow me answer because she said, "Abby is a little on the crazy side."

"I know." I nodded. _The art of maintaining sanity while going up an extra floor and smacking your face into walls explains much from personal experience. _

"I've seen things…" I was cut off by someone yelling like a beheaded chicken, and we watched Mr. Smith fleeing from Aunt Abby, who was armed with a crossbow cackling like a witch. How she got it, I'll never know. "…that you don't want to know and hear." I continued.

I took a step and pointed at the running form of my COW teacher, who was fleeing along with the newly-awakened Madame Dabney. "It looks like Aunt Abby is on sugar-cannibalism mode. She will not be stopped unless she eats a certain amount of sweets, or being restrained for a full twelve hours."

"Cannibalism?" Macey repeated. "Whoa."

"We need to capture her before she goes to her prize."

"_Prize_?" Mom asked; confused at the sight of Mr. Fibs chucking cupcakes like grenades at my aunt, who chopped them like Pac-Man eats those pellets, "What does she want?"

"Aunt Abby is going to take the whole batch of Chef Louis's crème brùlèe."

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><p><strong>Sorry if this was a very short chapter! I will add chapter three later.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**This is the last chapter, but if I'm inspired by a muse, there will be a fourth and final chapter, sort of like an epilogue to what happened. Chapter One was originally going to be called a prologue, but I'm just lazy.**

**Let's continue the tale of "Operation Interception"!**

**Disclaimer: Sarah Leigh Foglewoman (or _Foglewoman_) owns the Gallagher Girls series. Pianist707 does not, only this fan-fic.**

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><p><em>Operation Interception<em>

_Cameron "Cammie" Morgan_

We finally found Chef Louis, who was gagged and bound by a chair and an impossible knot. We untied him, and he started to splutter incomprehensive sentences before he calmed down. "Milady_ Rachel_, Abigail has taken the whole batch of my specialty. I've never seen anything like it. Your sister broke through the door, actually punting out the other chefs and made me show her where the crème brùleè was. And then she ate all of it, out of the can with her _hands…_ When she stared at me, her eyes were _bloodshot…_Oh." He fainted on the floor, and we left the room (without picking him up). The chef needed his peace.

"So she's not here…" Macey pointed out the complete obvious, "…And Mr. Solomon checked all the rooms, so what's left is the PE barn." She confirmed. We threw on slick coats and ran outside, across the lawn. Unfortunately, we ended up getting mud from the back and our tennis shoes. With difficulty, the door was pushed open, and the light shone brightly that framed our faces. Everything went worse.

Aunt Abby was not there. Only Liz, one of my best (and smartest…and clumsiest) friends was learning how to fire bolts on crossbows with Ms. Hancock.

"Easy there, Sutton, you have to aim a bit more higher than that mark. Stand straight, and pull back strongly when you're reloading. We don't want a dead person before you've just finished a shot." Our Protection and Enforcement teacher ordered, and then turned to us, looking us up and down. "Aren't you all…pleasant?"

Mom removed the dark hood from her head, which was amazingly not covered with mud. "Salem, did you see Abby? She had sugar tension and she's missing."

After correcting Liz to switch how she was holding the crossbow so she wouldn't shoot herself, Ms. Hancock turned to us again. "Unfortunately, I don't. Rachel, either she's coming this way or we might as well search the academy stone by stone-"

The sound of breaking glass made us shut up, and instinctively looked up. "_Whee!_" Aunt Abby laughed as we watched her land on the second floor of the barn. "Abigail! Get down and come here!" Mom yelled, and started to sprint up the stairs like a blur.

"No way, cinnamon! You aren't getting my applejack cereal!" I heard my aunt sang as she edged backwards as my mother drew closer. "Buh-bye!" She fell to the ground, about to be destroyed into smithereens. But we exhaled in relief when she twisted and turned until she landed into a pile of hay. It made me start thinking about that game Bex was raving about on Xbox.

Laughing like the crazy woman she was, Abby popped out of her cover like a weasel and speeded toward the door, just as Liz was aiming for another target. There was a slight_ whoosh_ as the bolt flew past Abby, and then she was gone. "Oopsy daisy," Liz dropped the crossbow and didn't shriek when it fell on her foot, "You still didn't get Abby? I thought…"

"She's still on the loose." I cut her off, and quickly backtracked to the academy, the others at my heels. Footprint trails before us led us to the highest floor of the Gallagher Academy. There was a light tapping noise from an old classroom that expanded widely, about have a football field. The lights on, we saw our newest faculty teacher, Mrs. Fay. She was teaching from sophomores to seniors about the Arts of Concealment and Weaponry (don't mess with her in a room full of needles. Bex learned the torture of acupuncture!), and right now she was examining a longbow, tapping it on the ground to test its durability. Either that or the fact she's doing it for no absolute reason at all.

She pushed the white-blonde hair from her face and frowns, the mysterious gray eyes burning holes in my eyes (not literally. Mr. Fibs is still doing the prototype) as she said, "What are you doing here at this time, smothered with mud, and making such a racket in the halls? No offense to that, Rachel, Joe." She added.

Mr. Solomon raised an eyebrow, but he allowed Mom to speak. She went straight to the point. "Where's Abby?"

At first I thought Mrs. Fay was crazy as she suddenly straightened her arm, pulled out an arrow and sent it flying past us, all in one fluid motion. "Don't move," She dropped her bow on the desk and went to turn on more lights behind us, "Abby, you're going to suffer if you put one more brownie in your mouth, so drop it."

"No."

"You will, you _hooligan!_"

Without waiting for another reply we tackled our sugar-crazy aunt. Flesh met the other as we bruised the wall, dog-piling. Liz fished out rope from the cabinet and we tied her to the chair with a hiker's knot, and soon she was propped up, watched by six pairs of eyes.

The seventh strolled in, and in came our London-native friend, Bex. She glared at me briefly before focusing her attention on Abby. "Does anyone know how to handle a crazy spy?"

Mr. Solomon and Mom exchanged looks, shrugging as Mrs. Fay came back with a bucket of water. "This has four hundred, fifty-two ice cubes and rainwater; I will not hesitate to use it." She declared with a dangerous glint in her eye. "But this is last resort." She finished flatly, and placed the bucket on the hard floor.

Liz, Macey, Bex, and I crowded over a desk as our ACW teacher took out a rubber glove, proceeding to smack Aunt Abby in the face several times. "Let's make a plan." I said, trying to be louder than the smacking noises coming from the back of the room.

"She must've eaten a lot of sugar before she went insane, so we have to neutralize the substance before it dissolves and ruins her mental capacity." Liz mentally calculated all the options that formulated in her brain. "We can inject a counter-substance, but it could take a few weeks." But Macey shook her head, black hair swishing everywhere. "There needs something to be done now."

By an hour a few plans were made, but all had different problems unsolvable. Either it would be the use of something illegal or cause such pain that it could potentially kill Aunt Abby.

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><p><strong>Ways to Get Agent Cameron out of Sugar-Tension<strong>

**One: Slap or knock Agent Cameron into unconsciousness. Unfortunately, Agent Fay is already performing it, and was found to be unsuccessful (Abby kick-slapped her in the face).**

**Two: Chinese Water Torture with Operative Baxter. It is discontinued due to Operative Sutton's compliant over the excessive and hazardous amounts of water. Sadly it will only affect the marine life in the Atlantic Ocean. CoveOps teacher Solomon says she is immune to such tactic.**

**Three: Wait for Agent Cameron to revert to normal self. Problem- she can break out and cause more havoc in the Gallagher Academy.**

**Four: Give more sugar until the agent begs for no more. Side effects could induce more sugar craziness, though. More deadly: alcoholic-like manners; fortunately, the agent subject to this does not drink liquor. Definitely.**

**Surely? Plan three is under investigation of this fact.**

**Five: Allow Headmistress Morgan to stop Agent Cameron's craziness. Probability to neutralize: zero to one-hundred.**

**Six: Operatives Morgan, McHenry, Baxter, and Sutton could forget this whole matter. But they cannot, since Agent Abby is a current hazard. Also, the headmistress does not approve. Note a demotivational poster comes to mind when the words "does not approve."**

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><p>The piece of paper that had our best plans was not helping. By then, Mom dumped the water on her sister, but Aunt Abby had gotten out of the rope with nail files, so they ended up both wet. The two highly-trained operatives and siblings grappled on the floor, throwing punches and kicks as Mrs. Fay left, saying in an Estonian accent, "I'm going to leave the room now!"<p>

There were curses in multiple languages that were not to be translated. "Mr. Solomon! Try to stop them from killing each other!" Macey exclaimed, as Bex was sent flying (figuratively) in the air from a kick meant to strike someone else's chin.

In a few seconds, they were separated, but then there was retaliation and counter-attacks. Mom was silently shivering in the poorly-heated room as Aunt Abby was bounded once again. "I think we've had enough of action tonight. Joe, let's go. And Cammie, you girls go back to your dorms." We nodded solemnly as we left, seeing Mr. Solomon lifted her up, bridal style, and used the faculty elevator.

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><p>"You have a crazy family. I correct: you have an <em>abnormal<em> family." Bex sighed, rubbing her black and blue spot where she was _kapow-ed_ earlier that evening. "It's impossible; we can't match your crazy aunt." She added dryly. Sadly, Liz didn't note her sarcasm.

"Nothing is impossible. You only needed to change a step in the operation, and you can do it."

"Sarcasm, Liz…"

"Oh."

I stared at my best friends, both enthusiastic and tired from the share of events. "It was a great night from the break I had when I stayed here for the winter." I admit, stepping into the bathroom and hanging a white towel as I entered the shower. "But it was hectic. Someone could've been hurt, or died, even-"

"_Embarassed?_" Bex cuts in, pointing to Macey. Our friend grins and waves a camera recorder, and removes the memory card. Liz takes it with care and attaches it into her laptop.

"Let's watch." The laptop brightens to life.

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><p><strong>So, this chapter has been pretty random. There were a few references to real stuff in reality, like Hetalia and Assassin's Creed (but I do not have an Xbox. I watch the videos). I woke up really early to type this. Right now is 12:43 pm, March twenty-fourth. <strong>

**Hopefully this has not been a disappointment for humor-loving readers. I thank everyone who has reviewed and encouraged me to add a few more chapters. **

**A fourth chapter is being typed, so it is optional if I find it fitting to add it.**

**Note: Out of Sight, Out of Time, is sort of related to the phrase Out of Sight, Out of _Mind._ So I believe Cammie is crazy in that book, since her brain's been wiped. By wiped I mean with a tissue, glass-shiner (or Lysol) and water. **

**Okay...Pianist707, out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the long wait. This is the fourth and final chapter of the story! Hope you enjoy this finished story.**

**Disclaimer: The Gallagher Girls series belongs to the rightful owner, Sarah Leigh "Ally Carter" Fogleman (Foglewoman?), while I own a tidbit of OCs and this small plot* of fanfics.**

***Not to be confused with a plot of land in Nebraska. **

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><p><em>Operation Interception<em>

_Joseph "Joe" Solomon,_

_Wiseguy, _

_Mr. Eyecandy..._

**_...Jojo!_**

Today was Monday morning. Just one step closer in being physically healthy and getting my former title as the Covert Operations teacher. I wore a white shirt and khaki pants as I reached Rachel's office. She should be awake, as she was an early riser. Climbing up the stairs with a bit of trouble, I reached her door and knocked.

It opened, revealing a very cheerful headmistress and friend. She was grinning, a mischievous expression that did not fit her business suit and shoes. As I said, she woke up early. "Good morning, Joe, Abby is still out, do you want to see her for a bit?" She asked, motioning to the leather sofa nearby the coffee table. Her sister was tied with some rope, and her face showed no signs of sugar takeover.

"Of course, nothing wrong seeing a person in the morning that was previously crazy the night before." I replied smoothly, sharing a grin full of mischief. "By next week, there's going to be the spring break. And your daughter needs a safe place to stay by until next semester." I added, no longer joking.

Rachel settled right next to her sister, beginning to undo the knot. She pulled the end and the bindings went undone. "I know. That's why Melissa recommended the school that her daughter went to. We're going to invite her, and in a letter she agreed, unless she got to meet Cammie. It's going to be a long ride with you."

"I come with you to this school? That explains the long conversations with their parents. We need a plane. What is the destination?"

"New York City. Stone's Advance School for the Gifted is highly protected. The girls are highly trained as well, considering it's been there since the World War. The original was burned to the ground during the beginning of the Revolution, and it was rebuilt in New York. Marilyn Stone, the founder, was a case taker." She added before I could ask. "The curriculum is similar, only…more cryptic."

"Isn't the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women like that?" I frowned. Every since I met Matthew's future girlfriend and later wife, I'd learn how the Circle was connected to the acts of Gallagher. Finally, a likely copy of this school was in the Big Apple. "Not that I underestimate you."

Rachel laughed. "They're not involved. The Circle of Cavan never recruited there, and they're more ignored than us. Everything is at ease. Addie told me that its safe and the spring break won't hurt. I believe Cammie's going to be okay. There's you, Zachary, and I-"

"Include me; don't keep me out of this." Abby called, and we turned to her. As usual, she had the usual look on her face: curious, and all-demanding. "I listened very specifically, Rachel. Squirt needs more adults into this."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Abigail, you are coming and I know you're not being held back. You have a vacation for a month, and sitting around is just not your style." Ooh, sisterly conflicts.

I cocked my head to my friend, remembering the night before. "You knew it, didn't you?" She grinned, I frowned, and Rachel blanched. "Where is the tape?"

Leaping up, she examined the office before sitting back down with a slight stumble from her earlier predicament of movement. "Oh, Joe, you think things through, but you always leave things out. Even being insane helps you see things more clearly than usual."

"You _stole_ Patricia's glasses." Her sister snapped.

"Not that." Abby quipped. She formed a small heart with her fingers and shot us in it with a smirk. It bore a resemblance to the smirk Zach wore once he learned something that I didn't, which was often _bad_ for me. "I had a conspirator. Did you think I'd go down without a fight?"

_Seems like I underestimate Gallagher Girls all the time, bummer._ "You had a conspirator?" I asked, unfazed. But the gears stopped turning. This problem seemed to give me a _brain fart._

Rachel had a look of complete horror, and I probably looked ridiculous, because Abby cracked up, a trace of the insane cackle that never left her. "Your faces are priceless. I know Macey's motives when I told her the plan after she nabbed me by the labs, me ready to scare Harvey out of his wits."

This was bad. Very bad, since a spy can't stop a rumor that's spread by teenage girls, who are also spies-in-training. _Two can keep a secret if the other one is dead,_ came the idea, but I dismissed it with a shake of my head. It was too late to prevent this without killing, and I wasn't that type of person. Whatever way Abby had given the camera was very impressive, and I yet had to learn the high acts of quick exchange.

A knock pulled me from my thoughts, and I answered the door immediately. "Hello, Cammie."

"Good morning, Mr. Solomon." A wide grin was plastered in her face, and she struggled to suppress it. "We tried to stop Macey, but word got out and…" She stared at Rachel aside my shoulder, "…sorry, Mom."

My friend smiled gently, and I knew behind that face was a crimson look on the verge of feminine tears. She's the drop-everything-and-panic type of girl when she's not being a spy. I'm simply ready to shed my own masculine sobs and stuff in my room. "Don't worry kiddo. I know." Yeah, right, Rachel, in your dreams. "I'll just face the music."

Cammie sighed in relief and pointed to Abby in a friendly manner. "I can't believe you pulled it off. And you got away with it! Liz went crazy and made it into a short movie. The camera was shaking, but she slowed it a bit so that we could see it better. You _scared_ me." She laughed nervously. And then she left to breakfast.

For awhile, we sat on the sofa, deep in thought. Whether or not to laugh at our moment or facepalm in despair, ideas came to mind, so I spoke. "Maybe we could talk to everyone, explain how it's not how it looked…"

"I have the evidence." Abby cut in, grinning. Well, that was pretty obvious. "And I am a victim of your plan." I replied flatly.

Next time, I'd be more prepared. Next time, I'd be more secure. By then-

Abby began to laugh loudly. "We might as well see what Elizabeth set up."

-I'd be _more manly._

* * *

><p><strong>Now that ends the finale of Operation Interception, folks! A good time to complete a story, I feel very satisfied I finished this. As mentioned, there is an idea of an OC in the Gallagher Girls section. I'm hoping to post it a certain times. Now, I decided to write an extra of something off topic from this:<strong>

"Mom?" I looked back to see Cammie staring at me, eyes wide. "Are you sure this is...okay?"

I nodded confidently and went back to work. "I'm very sure, sweetheart. I'm just a little busy right now."

"But...the kitchen is on fire."

"And I'm trying to stop it. Call Professor Buckingham and Madame Dabney to bring the water house. Also call Mr. Solomon." I replied, examining the flaming cabinets and the scorching piece of beef that was dubbed 'dinner.' I needed some help, but the temperature was tampered. "Quickly, Cammie." I told her, and she reluctantly left.

And then I turned back to the job. By then, the floor was ablaze, and my eyes stung. It was very hot. I'd shed my suit jacket and wore my long-sleeved shirt, and shot water from the water pump on the sink.

Suddenly I jumped back, startled by the collapsing of a drawer. _Gillian, we have a problem._

**I was wondering, I'd like to give the copyrights of this little bit above this text to a person who can finish this one-shot, or turn it into a series of chapters of Rachel Morgan recovering the lost of some of her kitchen. Oh, and sent me a PM if you want it, and then I'll subscribe.**


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